Problems with Broomsticks
by rockgodsdoitbetter
Summary: Draco has fun with double meanings.


**Title:** Problems with Broomsticks

**Summery:** Draco has fun with double meanings.

**Pairing:** Harry/Draco

**Rating: **PG-13 for implied sexual content

**Genre:** Comic fluff?

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Notes: **Come on, I had to do it at some point. How many times have you heard this? Or thought it. Thank you to Ashleigh for the prompt and Kate to helping me write it during history when we most likely should have been paying attention.

**Problems with Broomsticks**

"Stop staring at my broomstick Potter."

Harry jumped. Yes, he had been staring. He hadn't been staring at the broomstick exactly. He was more staring past the broomstick, at Malfoy's crotch. Harry was starting to wonder if he was developing some kind of disorder that made him obsess about certain areas of Malfoy's body, well, honestly, all of Malfoy's body. Harry looked up, armed with a witty retort he was sure could come to him soon.

Malfoy smirked and raised an eyebrow. This clued Harry into the fact that he knew exactly what he had been staring at.

Harry stuttered, "I uh… um… I wasn't… I wasn't staring at your stupid broomstick," he eventually spat out.

"Yes you were," Malfoy drawled with a satisfied smile, "there's no shame Potter; it's quite a nice broomstick."

Harry twitched. He looked at the ground. "I prefer my own," came out of his mouth before he had time to think anything through.

"Oh, I don't know. You seemed to enjoy mine pretty thoroughly if I recall correctly," Malfoy said while nudging an oblivious Crabbe who stood glaring in defense next to him. Crabbe laughed. Goyle quickly joined in.

Harry flushed and willed the ground to give way so he could fall away form this conversation.

"Yours is faster," Crabbe interjected from the side.

Malfoy turned and glared at Crabbe.

Crabbe had said the wrong thing and Harry planned to take advantage of it, "well you see Malfoy, the thing is, some people prefer to take it slow. To maximize the… experience," Harry chuckled at Malfoy's glare, which turned deadly.

"Your broomstick does have a certain shine to it Potter. I have to admit. I would say you spend a bit too much time," Malfoy paused, "polishing it," he smiled and crossed his arms.

Harry blushed. He wanted to run away; he wanted to hit Malfoy and then run away. He forced himself to look up and submit a retort. He was determined to fluster Malfoy. "You've noticed its shine Malfoy? It must be what you think about when you polish your own. Eh? Trying to make it shine just as much?"

Malfoy inhaled sharply and snarled, "the thing about your broomstick Potter, just a little something I've noticed, is that your model is a bit too small for my taste you know? I think when riding, it would leave one feeling unsatisfied."

Harry glowered. He knew for a fact he was basically the same size as Malfoy.

Crabbe and Goyle looked beyond confused. Crabbe daringly asked, "Draco? You've ridden Potter's broom?"

Malfoy opened his mouth just as Harry scoffed, "he wishes."

"Not quite," Malfoy began firmly, "he tried to get me to try it out. He practically begged me to."

"I never begged you to do anything you spoiled little—"

"Now, now, Potter, that temper of yours will get you in trouble."

Harry frowned and then snarled, "I'm not getting angry. I'm just saying: you're the one who begs," Harry concluded and crossed his arms in triumph.

"What—I'd never sink that low." Draco stepped forward.

"You sank a little lower than that last time I checked," Harry grinned at Malfoy's shock.

"You should know you—"

Neither Crabbe nor Goyle could remember who hit whom first.

Harry stopped being angry the second Malfoy's warm body rolled on top of his. Both boys stood up hastily, each adjusting their robes.

"Potter's broomstick needs some help," Malfoy called over his shoulder as he and Harry jogged away, "with all this humidity the wood started to swell. He needs my help relieving, I mean, getting it back to size."

Crabbe and Goyle heard Harry mumble, "Yeah, like yours wouldn't under all that damp heat."

They turned and stared at each other in confusion.

"They sure are weird about their brooms," Goyle said with a shrug.


End file.
